chronicles of idiosyncrasy

Running

She put on headphones and ran everywhere in all sorts of weather. She ran away from her home and didn’t want to turn around. She kept pushing her legs and her pounding heart to move beyond him, to forget him – this man who had awakened her mind and her body after both had been slumbering for so long.

Before she met him, she existed in a haze. She worked, she mothered, she wifed. She didn’t notice herself, let alone anyone outside of her immediate focus. And then one day she sat in a meeting with him and felt a slight prickle of lusty infatuation all over her skin. He looked at her with an intensity she felt in her toes. He talked to her – too much. He asked her questions that were much too personal, ones about her happiness and her sense of meaning. And worse, she listened and she answered.

And then she found herself at his door more than she cared to say for a longer period of time than she dared to consider. They did not speak at these times. He just opened the door and let her in – and tangled in the dark together, they did not promise or pretend anything. She did this until he told her that nothing good could come of it.